Paradise
by TheFriendZone
Summary: Guts finally finished his journey. The woman he loves was back, and they were safe from the legions of demons that hunted them for so long. But with the peace came a feeling Guts never wanted to experience. Remorse.
1. Chapter 1

"Guts."

The gentle roar of the sea only seemed to accentuate her voice. Every time the waves would reach the sand, and soaked his boots in the process, the voice of the woman behind him only came in clearer. Guts lowered his head, the one eye he had left in his skull closed tight as he tuned her out. Each time she said his name, he clenched his fist tighter. Sand dampened her footsteps so well that he did not even realize that she was mere inches away.

"Guts..." Casca's voice ripped him open far better than any weapon he was ever struck with. He could face a legion of unholy abominations, fight an army of the dead, kill one hundred men in a single night, but hearing her voice drained him of all life. His muscles turned into stone, and whatever kept him on his feet the last few, long years was gone. For the first time in a very long time, all of the fury that pushed him vanished. Instead, he merely felt... cold.

"Guts!" Casca's voice was stern. He could tell she wanted to reinvoke that old tone she had when she was a commander. Pure authority and strength, the kind that made men follow your orders to a T. However, the shakiness was clear. It was as though she tried to command through her tears. Guts' throat closed tight, his fist shook as he clenched it once more. "Please, just say _something_!"

He felt her head as she placed it on his shoulder. Casca's forehead was buried into the sharp, rough armor that he wore. Part of him wanted to push her off, keep her from cutting herself on the edges of the plates, but his body was numb. His limbs would not respond, and his brain fought the idea of even thinking of touching her. He wondered where the others where. They had to have been looking for them. Hopefully Farnese would take Casca away and they could have fun somewhere...

" _Without me,_ " Guts finished the sentence in his head. Bitterness flooded his tongue at the thought, a sickly taste that made him want to spit. It was true though. She was better off without him. What they had was gone, and it was never coming back. It was time he accepted that. She suffered enough because of him. Everyone did.

"GUTS!" Casca shrieked before she grabbed his head and forced him to look at her. The dress the Elf Queen made for her was gorgeous. An elaborate gown made of flower petals that shined bright against the sun light that poured down on the two. Casca looked like she was ripped from a fairy tale, a beautiful princess that waited for a brave knight to save her from monsters. "Just... talk to me, please!"

Guts huffed before he pulled himself free. His gaze went down, and he stared at the sand that was washed up and swept away by the waves crashing against him. The endless swells of the sea made him feel so small. Even after everything he has done, all of the long, grueling nights of surviving and killing, he was just one man. One man who carved a path of death across his homeland. Once for money, then for vengeance, and finally...

Guts turned his head to Casca, his one eye burned a hole right through her. He wanted to reach out, to pull her close and never let her go again. But then it hit him like a cannonball to the head. All of the things he did. All of the killing, the people he murdered in his life. Images of Adonis, the boy he unintentionally assassainted all those years ago, of Rosine and her minions, a child apostle that converted children to be her slaves. Of all the innocent villagers he dragged into his war on demons.

The massacre at the Tower of Conviction, all of the screams as the demons devoured all life they could find. Yet he survived. By only thinking about himself, he survived. The fact made him want to puke. Guts looked down at himself, at the warped, cursed, and cruel armor he wore. His vulgar, metal arm, rusted and chipped from constant violence.

"Am I a good man?" Guts asked suddenly, the words fallen from his mouth before he could stop them. A ball tightened in his throat, his body shuddered as he closed his eye tight. They were the first words he said to her since she woke up. Since they were reunited... And she screamed at him. How many days had it been since then? How many times did he avoid her, slipping away from the group any chance he could find? Was he going to run away again? To throw away his companions in fear of losing them?

"Guts..." Casca whimpered out, the question having stolen her breath. Ever since her reawakening, she was desperate to find answers on what happened during her insanity. The rest of the party were enthusiastic to speak with her. All were kind, cordial, and in the case of Isidro and Isma, happy to play with Casca and treat her like a member of the family.

All except for Guts...

Guts, who looked so different from how she remembered. The man she once loved had changed. He was scarred, disfigured, half blind, and had a heavy weight on his shoulders. She find out that she was incapacitated for a while, at least a year or two... And Guts was left all alone in the dark. When she talked with the others, they would tell her strange tales. Of horrid beasts and battles with ungodly creatures. Of how Guts and her were cursed to be hunted until their deaths, and Guts brought her to a sanctuary to protect her from the army of the dead that wanted their blood.

She wanted to know more, but it was clear that Guts was just as social with them as he was to her. Anything to do with the past was untouchable. The only one that seemed to know anything was the weird Elf, Puck. That little bug looking guy that buzzed around playing games with everything he could see. Casca could recall the words Puck said when she asked him what happened to Guts.

 _" **I don't wanna make it sound like Guts is a bad guy,** "_ the words echoed in Casca's brain, _" **I mean, yeah, he's a total grouch all the time. But he's really changed.** "_

" _He changed..._ " those were the two words that terrified her. Puck talked as though Guts was some kind of villain, like he was convincing Casca to not throw him in jail or have him executed. She simply wanted to know what happened! If the stories were true, Guts was left all alone to fight an armada of monsters that defy imagination. No matter how strong someone is, they couldn't keep sinking into horrors that deep. Not without losing something they could never get back.

"What did you do?" Casca asked sternly, like a mother would scold a child. Her brow was furrowed, and her tone was strong. Any patience she once had was gone. It was clear Guts was only going to respond to an order, and she was still the leader of the Band of the Hawk. What was left of it... "Answer me!"

Guts stood up straight. Slowly, but surely, he turned to face Casca. His expression was blank, just an empty face that was aged beyond its years. The striking, white stripe in his hair immediately drew Casca's gaze. His slimmer physique was blatant, still built like an ox but clearly withered compared to his younger self. The lack of an eye hurt her heart to look at, like a nail was driven in her chest.

"I..." Guts started, his voice cracked like glass. Where once she finally wrestled a sentence from him, he was back in his turtle shell and unwilling to come out. Every attempt to push a word out made Guts want to fall to the ground. All of his strength flowed from his body as one more wave crashed against his legs. As the water washed back to the ocean, his spirit went with it. "I've been having a dream lately."

Casca raised her eyebrow at this. Half of it was curiosity while the other was frustration at his continued reclusion. Seeing the man who was once so confident and strong be reduced to a hollow shell made tears well in her eyes. Casca fought off the urge to get as she listened further.

"It always starts the same," Guts said as he stared down at the sand once again, "we're together. Away from everything. Still have my arm and my eye. We have a house in the middle of nowhere, just us." Guts felt warmth flow to his cheeks, he wanted to stop where he was before he looked any more pathetic, but it was too late. "You're cooking dinner while I'm outside, cutting a tree down. It's... peaceful." Guts sneered as he clenched his fist. "Not like now... Not at all."

He heaved one large sigh, Guts unable to find the words to describe what happened next. Tears flowed down his cheek as the image burned back into his brain. The heavy, potent stench of blood filled his nostrils all over again.

"I go inside the house, to show you I have firewood," Guts continued, desperate to finish his story. "You don't look at me, just happily singing a song to yourself while you boil soup on the stove. I walk over to you, just to drop the wood into the fire to keep the oven going..."

Guts' eye went wide as the scene was painted all over again.

"You turn to look at me... And you scream," Guts raised his gaze to Casca, seeing her face go pale when he mentioned a scream. "I'm not holding a log of wood. Not covered in dust and sweat. It's blood and brains, and I'm holding a severed arm." He grasped at his metal arm with his only hand left, and felt a twinge of pain from where the limb was supposed to be. Even after it was taken from him, and after so long, he could swear that he felt his fingers touch sometimes. "You run outside, terrified of me. I chase after you, and I see you standing in on an ocean of corpses. Stretched on for miles. Rotted, swollen bodies. Of soldiers, villagers, innocent men, women... _children_. And you ask me 'Why?' The only thing I can say back before I wake up is..." Guts fell to the beach, only kept up on his knees. His hands pressed hard into the sand.

" _'I did it for you.'_ "

Casca became a statue. Motionless, barely even able to breathe. The only thing that moved was her hand, slowly stretched out to rest against the large man's shoulder. No words could describe what she felt. Guilt? Confusion? Horror? All she could really decipher out of everything was that Guts became something he should never have been. When she left him alone in the nightmare she was too weak to face with him.

Before he could push her off, Casca wrapped herself tight against him. She buried Guts in her warm embrace, and fell to the sand with him. Sea water washed against the two of them as the waves became stronger. Neither could say a word, merely feeling the warm they were deprived of for so long. To be able to hold each other... and cry. Their wails of anguish drowned out by the roar of the sea.

* * *

After an eternity, the two finally released each other. Where the sun was once high in the sky, now only the orange glow of dusk remained. Guts and Casca both rose to their feet, still unable to say anything to each other. All Casca could do was raise one of her slender hands and cup Guts' cheek, and hope the moment would last forever. Even after all that happened, everything they did to reach this exact spot, every corpse buried, friend lost, drop of blood spilled, Casca could not help but feel truly happy.

"I don't want to lose anymore," Guts said simply as he grabbed Casca's hand with his much larger one. "Everyone: Schrieke, Farnese, Serpico, the bugs, Isidro... You." He pulled Casca in for a hug, being careful not to crush her against his armor. "I _can't_ lose anyone else. People I care about keep getting hurt, and I want it to stop."

"You won't," Casca said, nestled in Guts' embrace. "And you're not a bad man. Bad men don't throw themselves into danger to protect others." Casca raised her head to meet his gaze. "I think you're a hero."

"Hero..." Guts said weakly. He never once thought the word and him would ever be used in the same sentence. If anything, he felt like a boogeyman. Back when people called him the Black Swordsman. All the time he spent being feared, and bringing destruction to wherever he happened to go.

"You took a bunch of strangers," Casca explained, her head turned back to the island behind them, "and gave them a reason to be human. You showed them how to live, how to survive, and carried them out of danger and into a place they can be happy."

"Human," Guts said to himself. It was a long time since he felt the same. So many days he spent wallowing in hatred, just swinging his sword like a madman? Vengeance being the only thing he could ever think about. Desire to see Griffith's body cleaved in two was all that kept him on his feet. And now...

"Really," Casca said with a short giggle, "I'm shocked you didn't replace me with Farnese. She's a good woman."

"What are you talking about?" Guts asked, his face twisted and confusion written clear on his face. Farnese was a good comrade, but she want a leader. Far too meek, and when she _was_ a leader, Guts killed most of her men. Besides, she seemed more happy to study magic and care for Casca. No need to burden her with command on top of that.

"You're all she talks about," Casca said with a small smile. A twang in her chest made her hesitate to continue, like she just made a mistake. Still, it was cute to think about how loyal Guts was to her, like a puppy following its owner. "And she steals more than a glance or two when she knows you aren't looking."

"Huh," Guts simply huffed, like he just learned the world was round. He shrugged his shoulders, the heavy weight he felt for so long slowly melted away. "Never noticed," he said, as he felt a little embarrassed to gossip about subjects like romance. But romance with Farnese? Maybe if things turned out differently it wouldn't seem strange, but the idea sounded alien to him.

"Maybe in another life," Casca said tersely, a tiny shred of jealously leaked into her words, "but until then you're _mine._ " A smile as bright as the sun was on her lips. Guts stared down at Casca's loving face, and he felt a cold breeze go down his spine.

"I'll live with that," Guts said, his tone distant, as his head turned back to the ocean. Across it was Midland, and Griffith was there with his 'New Band of the Hawk.' Made up of the bastards that murdered the original. They would come. He could feel it. Just as natural as the sun rising in the sky, Griffith would come to Elfhelm. Guts knew it was inevitable. And when they do, they'll burn everything to cinders. Tear every living thing in the island to pieces, and rape what's left.

" _But not if I reach you first,_ " Guts thought to himself. His face became stern, jaw clenched as the idea of Griffith taking his new home away rampaged in his head. " _Maybe I'm about to make the same mistake,_ " Guts' sobering thoughts echoed in his brain, " _and I know if I leave, I won't make it back home again..._ "

Guts tightened his grip around Casca, and drank in the softness of her body one last time.

" _But dying to protect someone I love doesn't sound like such a bad thing._ "

He wouldn't leave to find a purpose. And it would not be for revenge. It was simply a strategic approach. Kill them before they killed Casca. Don't let them reach Elfhelm. The others finally have a place to belong, to whittle away their days in peace and joy. Casca would be happy too. They need to enjoy the gift they were given. Anyone would have killed to live in a literal paradise. True heaven on Earth.

But none of it was for him. He knew ever since that banquet, so many years ago. Where the Band of the Hawk were announced as nobles. They were promised status and civility. A lifetime of fancy dinners and no longer needing to worry about death on the battlefield. And it all... terrified him. Guts was a mercenary, through and through. He never knew quiet, or tranquility, and it scared the life out of him to find it.

"Guts," he heard Casca say softly, still pressed tight against him, "are you okay? You got quiet all of a sudden."

"It's nothing," Guts said as he lied as best he could. He knew she'd try to stop him. To say they could move on together and grow a family, far away from war and blood. And he knew it's what he wanted too. But none of it belonged to him. And the Godhand would come to tear away what was left of his life when he least expected it. Guts knew, deep down, he would not survive it a second time.

"Just hold on tight."

* * *

I keep reading a lot of "Casca Is Back" stories that tend to be very fanservicey and full of fluff. I get the appeal, but I decided to write a thing that I feel would probably play out closer to how it would actually be written in the plot.

Dunno how accurate it really would be, but now I have thing.


	2. Chapter 2

The trees stretched high in the sky, full of thick leaves that were all green and healthy. Lush plantlife went on as far as the eye could see in the forest. The powerful, but calming, scent of nature was enough to put one's mind at ease. And despite how tall the trees were, the sun was able to shine bright and unabated, warming the earth and all the creatures standing on it. Nothing like the forests in Midland, where the heavy foliage made every day feel like an endless night.

No, in Elfhelm the forest felt safe. Soothing. Like one could rest their eyes out in the open and not worry about whether they would wake up or not. And rest was exactly what Guts did, his back against one of the many trees the forest offered. His armor was still on, the plates clacked each time he shifted his body. The sound of a nearby waterfall deeper into the forest only accentuated the tranquility he felt. It was strange, he spent so many years barely sleeping, and always pushing himself to his physical limit. He even grew accustomed to it, rarely even wanting to sleep or being unable to calm himself down enough to get to rest.

And now... now that his quest was finally over, after the nightmarish struggle he went through, it was hard not to drift off to sleep. As though his body wanted to play catch up on all the nights he was forced to battle until dawn. Guts found it difficult to keep his eye open regularly, his entire body felt like it weighed a ton. He even found it difficult to hold his sword at times, the massive hunk of metal shook in his arms more times than he would care to admit. The truth would whisper itself in the back of his mind, but he never wanted to admit it.

" _I'm not who I was..._ " the words burned his brain. Where just a year ago he was a powerful warrior, able to take on creatures that slaughtered other humans like cattle, now he felt himself unwinding. Like a string from an old shirt. He was sure the unraveling began as soon as he put on that accursed armor. The cursed suit that made a habit of tearing into his flesh, and sending him into a violent killing spree when it got the chance.

Ever since he began to wear it, Guts felt himself whither slowly. Bit by bit, like an hourglass reaching the last few pieces of sand. His hands became shaky, his vision faded on occasion, food was increasingly difficult to taste. It was like a parasite was draining him of his senses. Slowly, but surely, it was eating him alive.

Guts perked up when he heard a strange sound behind him. He turned his head to see Isma, the strange little girl they picked up on their journey to Elfhelm. She was an odd one, to put it lightly. The last survivor of a village annihilated by the Sea God, a powerful monster that murdered all that it came across in the ocean, Isma was taken in by the group when Isidro insisted they protect her. Guts could tell it was because Isidro had a crush on her, but it didn't matter in the end. What did matter was what the girl's origins were.

She was a marrow, or at least half of one. Her father was a human who fell in love with a marrow in his youth. Isma was born of their union, and left to be raised by her father. Her mother went with the rest of their kind to keep the Sea God imprisoned. Eventually, her father died and she was left alone on the island. Despite everything she went through, the girl remained very chipper and excitable.

Isma sang a song to herself as she walked through the forest, holding a small, metal pail. Guts watched as she disappeared into the brush, content to simply rest against the tree he laid against. He wanted to move, to get up and stretch his legs, but every muscle was lead. Once again, the weight against his eye returned as his felt the lid drift down. Sleep threatened to pull him into its warm embrace once again.

At least until Guts heard rapid footsteps that grew louder every second. Guts snapped his head in the direction of the noise, and saw Isma coming towards him. Guts sighed as he rose to his feet. Every bone cracked, and the man could have sworn he was about to topple over as his vision grew blurry. He managed to compose himself in time for Isma to arrive, she still held the little pail in her hands.

"Hey, Mr. Guts!" Isma began excitedly. Her smile was bright, as was her eyes. Despite her hair being a messy mop on her head, it was surprisingly clean. The simple village clothes she wore were well maintained, but a few holes made themselves clear on her pant legs. "Me and a few of the others from the mage school are gonna catch frogs at the waterfall! You want to come watch?"

"No," Guts said simply, and shook his head. He found it difficult to even gather the energy to respond to her. Just muttering that one word felt more exhausting than when he killed a hundred men in a night. He tried to raise himself up, get to his feet, but the heaviness of his body nearly brought him back down. Guts took another look at Isma and the realization sank in, "Where's Isidro?"

"Him and Roderick are talking about boats and stuff," Isma said simply, a frown clear on her face. "I already asked him and he just blew it off. Said he didn't want to be around a bunch of sniveling mages or something like that."

"Sounds like him," Guts grunted. He heaved a heavy sigh as he pushed his way past the little girl. While careful not to knock her to the ground, he made it clear the gesture was an end to the conversation. Isma walked off back towards the waterfall, but not before muttering something about Guts being an old dummy. The crunch of leaves and twigs filled his ears, but dissipated as the young girl vanished into the forest.

"My," a light and warm voice said, honey dripping from every word, "You certainly have a way of getting your point across."

The armor clad warrior turned to see a flower clad woman, her dress made of beautiful petals. Her ears were long, far longer than any human. Face was young and vibrant, almost sculpted to be perfection. The entire air around her became much more comfortable to be in, as though her presence alone calmed the nerves and cleared the mind. It was Danaan, or the Flowerstorm Queen, depending on who was asked. The ruler of the elves on the island, and the one that guided Guts and his party at the last hurdle of their quest.

"What are you doing here?" Guts asked, his eyebrow raised as he leaned back against a tree. His mind gnawed at the reasons why she would be there. The mere possibility that something bad happened to Casca caused his heart to race. His fist clenched so tight it shook. Any exhaustion he felt vanished as fast as lightning.

"Relax, dear child," Danaan said as she raised one of her slender hands, "I merely wanted to talk. You and your friends sought refuge in my home, so I thought it only fair to get to know you all."

Guts huffed at the suggestion. He tried to push his way past the Elven Queen, but the heavy weight of his fatigue tumbled through him like an avalanche. Before he could even put a foot forward, Guts fell against a tree and slid down to the ground. His breathing became heavy, and he needed to fight the urge to go into a coughing fit.

"That armor," Danaan said, her voice was bittersweet as she placed a hand on Guts' shoulder, "I swear, it's more poison than protection." She moved a hand onto Guts' forward, and felt the searing heat of Hellfire as she hummed a sad song to herself. "You're sick. You need to rest."

"I can't-" Guts choked out before violent coughs wracked his system. Each one made his chest feel like it was about to explode. His throat torn to pieces as each tremor pulsed through. Blood dripped from his lips as his episode passed through. Guts cursed himself for letting her see him like this. After so many years of pushing himself through any pain, he couldn't do a thing to keep himself from falling apart once he was safe. The irony almost made him laugh.

"Listen, dear child," Danaan began as she waved her staff over Guts. He wasn't sure what she was doing, but the pain dissipated slowly as they talked, "there are more dangers to that armor than merely the Berserker's Rage. If it is not watched closely, it will drain you of life. You need to remove it at once."

"No!" Guts barked out. He forced himself back to his feet, but shook like a leaf as he did so. Coughs cut his throat like glass shards as he tried to speak. Blood continued to pour from his mouth as he held onto the tree for support. "When _he_ comes, I'll need it."

"'He' is the one that Branded you, I assume?" Danaan asked, her arms crossed over her chest like an annoyed mother. Despite his protests, Danaan grabbed the gauntlet to his armor and pulled it clean off of his arm. Guts' scarred, pale flesh was exposed to the sun as the Elf Queen removed his armor piece by piece. Had he the strength to move, he would have fought tooth and nail to keep his suit on, but he was far too tired. "Men always think with their swords before their own heads..."

"Why are you here...?" Guts demanded weakly, his eyes tried to stay open but they would drift down every so often that it was difficult not to fall asleep once again. Even with the armor off, he didn't feel any better. If anything, he felt cold without it. Like he was thrown naked into a blizzard.

"Your companions," Danaan answered simply, a small smile on her face. "They worry about you, the hiding, the introverted behavior," she stopped as Guts fell into another coughing fit. Her heart sank with every graveled choke. With every spatter of blood that hit the grass. "They simply want to know why you don't wish to be with your woman."

"Casca..." Guts said, almost vomiting the word. She didn't need to see him like that. They reconciled on the beach, and he made his decision. He needed to leave before anything else happened to them. Before Griffith arrived and burned them all alive. If he left, they would be safe.

"I saw her mind during the ritual," Danaan explained as she waved her staff once again. Guts felt a soft warmth build inside him that made the agonizing pain go numb. It wasn't perfect, but he was given salvation for a brief moment. "I saw your tragedy. How it must have been to lose everyon-"

" _Stop,_ " Guts hissed, his fingers balled themselves into the best attempt at a fist he could make with his numb arm. Even after everything else he went through, those unimaginable images scalded the worst. Every time his mind flashed back to it, it was like someone poured boiling water over him. "Just stop."

"I understand," Danaan nodded slowly as she spoke, "that event is not to be spoken of lightly. And I know it made you do terrible things." The stink of insanity was within the man, it burned her nose just to be near him. To survive something like the Eclipse would mean becoming a creature not unlike the demons, at least in terms of ferocity.

"It didn't make me do anything," Guts said, his voice as cold as a glacier, "I was evil before I even knew demons existed." In his dazed state, he saw it again. That monster. The beast that haunted him. The red eyed abomination of a hound that followed his every step. Its jaws were filled with teeth as sharp as razors, each one ready to rip prey to ribbons. The pitch black fur made it sink into the shadows, only exposed by the glowing eyes that pierced Guts' soul.

"You believe you are evil?" Danaan asked, her brow raised in curiosity. "My, that is certainly not how your companions describe you," she had to put her hand to her mouth to hide the small smile that formed, "many of them have nothing but kind words."

"Because they don't know," Guts said as he slowly shook his head, "or they don't want to remember. Puck knows. He saw me when I was..." Guts went still, his throat locked as he struggled to find any word to piece together a sentence, " _not well_."

" **Funny way to say you were a bloodthirsty lunatic,** " the Beast growled out, its voice warped and poisonous. Just hearing that terrible creature again made Guts break in a cold sweat. It was supposed to be gone. It said it was gone. " **The bug saw everything. You need to kill him before he talks. Before they all know what you _really_ are...**"

"Shut up," Guts said, his eyes locked completely on the Beast. It was back, and he was too weak to make it go away. He completely forgot about Danaan's existence as the Beast drew closer to him. It stepped out from the shadows, fangs bared and ready to go for his throat.

" **Why not kill them _all_?**" the Beast asked as it inched closer to Danaan. Guts whimpered as he tried to raise a single limb. Each one felt like jelly, and he couldn't do a thing to stop the monstrous dog. It reeked of blood. A thick, copper odor drowned his senses and made him lightheaded. He was used to blood, even gallons of it, but the Beast was on a completely different level. " **Griffith will just make them suffer. You can put them down quick. One swing of that sword and they're gone.** "

"I don't want to talk to you," Guts said as he closed his eyes tight. The venomous words slithered into his mind. Images of Elfhelm in flames crept up, of his companions torn to pieces, of Casca and Farnese being raped before they were devoured alive, of Isidro and Serpico being tortured and dismembered, Schrieke being beheaded, each one made his stomach crawl.

"Guts..." Danaan said sadly as she watched the man converse by himself. The way his eyes glazed over made it clear he was completely separated from reality. Too busy talking to his dog to even acknowledge Danaan.

" **You're a killer,** " the Beast said, its body slowly grew larger as they spoke. In mere seconds it was a massive form that stared down at Guts. It could swallow him whole, if it chose. He wouldn't even be able to fight back, just be picked up and shredded by those razor fangs. Each one was the length of his arm. **"** **You've known for so long that this is what you are.** "

"I said _shut up_!" Guts screamed, finally able to force himself to his feet. He reached for the Dragon Slayer, the massive slab of iron he called his sword. His arms wobbled, and his legs nearly crumbled, as the weight of the blade tried to send him to the ground. With all of his strength, he swung the sword at the Beast.

The blade went through the creature like water, and it tore through the trunk of the tree that the Beast stood in front of. The sword buried deep into it, and split the tree in two. The top half collapsed to the ground. Birds, bees, and elves all flew out in a panic as they realized their home was destroyed.

Guts felt an icy shock go up his spine as he realized what he did. He turned his head to Danaan, who watched quietly as the man came back to sanity. At least temporarily. It was so long since the Beast made him have an episode like that. Ever since he tried to hurt Casca, all that time ago. Sure, the damn thing had its fun with the Berserker armor, but that _thing_ played with his brain even before that.

" **You nearly fell over yourself swinging that thing,** " the Beast said, that voice bit at Guts' eardrums as he froze as solid as a statue. " **You really are dying.** "

"Dying...?" Guts whispered to himself. He was dying? No... He knew it was true. Every day was harder than the last. Harder to stay awake, to stop coughing, to swing his sword, to even keep himself on his feet. Deep down, he felt it. Like he was rotting on the inside.

"The Berserker Armor," Danaan said, bitterness heavy on her tongue, "when the user goes too long without battle, it begins to poison them. Combat will delay the process, but it is impossible to fully stop once it has begun." Why he would be using such a terrible device was beyond her, but it was clear the armor already began waste away his life.

"Oh," Guts huffed to himself, forced to lean against his sword to keep himself steady. The thought sobered him. It was strange to think about. He spent his entire life trying not to die, but now he could do nothing to stop it. In a strange way, he felt relief. Like a weight was lifted from his shoulders.

"You want to die, don't you?" Danaan asked, her voice warm and welcoming. "To end your suffering and perdition." Danaan waved a hand in the air, and an image of his sword dug straight into the earth appeared. The handle was high in the air, the blade buried into the dirt. Flowers were placed in front of the sword, a sunset bounced off and made a bright orange glow for all to see.

"I can't," Guts said simply as he hobbled over to the pile of metal that was his armor. Piece by piece, he put it back on. Despite his condition, Guts knew what he had to do. "Not yet."

"Your last days should be with your companions," Danaan said as she walked in front of him. Her brow was furrowed, and a clear frown was on her face. "Vengeance has only brought you agony and sorrow. Why not spend what time you have left to be with your family?"

"That's who I'm doing this for," Guts barked out as he scowled. He pushed his way past the Elf Queen, who merely sighed before she vanished deep within the forest. Guts was finally alone again as he pushed onward. The thought of another journey alone made him hesitant, but he pushed forward all the more. If he was going to die, he wanted to make sure he ended everything. They would never be safe until it was finished.

" _Get to the beach,_ " Guts thought to himself, " _get to the beach and get to the ship._ " He wasn't exactly a sailor, but he was able to pick up a trick or two by watching Roderick and the crew work. Guts was confident he could at least make it back to Midland by himself. It didn't need to be graceful, or even be in working condition to come back. It was a one way trip, and he knew it.

" _Casca..._ " his thoughts were filled with her. Her name, how she looked in that dress at the banquet, how incredible she was at combat, how lovely she looked when she tried to stop him from leaving the Hawks. Every memory of her spurred him forward. But as he continued, one thought popped into his mind that took his attention away completely.

" _I wonder if we would've had a happy family..._ "


	3. Chapter 3

"Guts?" that soft, intoxicating voice called to him. Guts stopped in his tracks, his boots sunk into the mixture of sand and grass as he just left the thick forest and spotted the beach in front of him. The trees just ended where he stood, brush and tall grass stood up to his hips. He turned his head to see Casca, half hidden behind a tree, still dressed like a princess with her flowery dress. She slowly walked away from her hiding spot, her face was flushed, and her arms were behind her back. Guts looked down to see her foot tracing circles in the sand. "C-Can I ask you something?"

"What is it?" he responded, a bit colder than what he intended. The fatigue from earlier still weighed heavily on him. And, to be perfectly honest, he was in shock. It was a rare thing to see Casca embarrassed. Extremely rare. In fact, he could count on one hand the amount of times he actually saw her like that. She always carried herself as a proud warrior, and now she was like a timid village girl. It was cute, if strange.

"We-Well," Casca stumbled to start, her face only grew redder as she went on. Her eyes swung down to the foot that played in the sand. Guts raised an eyebrow as he waited for her to go on, but all he heard was a nervous chuckle. What could have possible gotten into her? He needed to leave... Guts looked back to the beach, to the ship that waited at the port. The massive vessel called out to him, demanded that he get on board and set sail. "Th-There's apparently a show the children are going to put on..."

"The kids?" Guts asked, his face contorted in confusion. What, the mages? They did shows? Or did she mean the kids with them? Isidro definitely would not do a 'show', he wanted to fight. Isma would probably do a show; something about fish or mermaids, maybe. Schrieke would probably do one too. She could show off that magic of hers to an audience. Guts pulled himself out of the rabbit hole before it got any deeper. None of it mattered anyway.

"Ye-Yeah," Casca murmured, "the mage-children are going to put on some kind of play. Apparently there's a festival coming up, and I was wondering if, maybe, perhaps, you would be interested in possibly-"

"Wasn't there a festival last week?" Guts asked out loud, unknowingly cutting off Casca's words. He was sure there was some big celebration when they first got there. He drank with Serpico and Roderick then. It was when Casca came back. Did they really throw a party whenever they had the chance? That Elf Queen definitely spoiled her people rotten. He groaned as memories of being forced to attend that ball with Casca after the Siege of Doldrey came back. Mainly of the suit he wore then. He hated that suit. "They're like a bunch of nobles using any excuse to party..."

"An-Anyway!" Casca yelled, her soft voice shifted back to the old commanding tone she used so many years ago. Guts jolted as he was pulled back to the conversation. Why was it so hard to focus on her? His head felt like it was swimming. Was it the armor? Probably, considering his luck. "If you want, we could..." Casca trailed off, her face as red as a tomato.

"Watch it together?" Guts finished for her. Why was she so shy about this? They were technically 'together'. Everyone knew about them, and they already had each other. Hell, they almost had a ki- _Stop._ Guts felt bile in his throat as he forced himself to stop his thoughts. He didn't want to think about _him_. He was gone, and there was no getting him back. Guts had no idea if Casca knew about it, but she never brought it up. She only really remembered the Eclipse, even then it was mere pieces. That was for the best. She shouldn't bear that weight. She _c_ _ouldn't_ bear it.

"Y-Yeah..." Casca said, a small, hopeful smile on her face. Guts wanted to leave, to avoid the temptation in front of him. His goal was right in front of him, yet he was paralyzed to his spot. Casca's blushed face enraptured him. He sighed a heavy, long sigh. The boat would still be there when he got back. Besides, it would be like a date. Him and Casca never got to do that before... everything happened. Guts never considered himself much of a romantic, but he went a long time without feeling something good. And thought it was small, simple, and sounded extremely stupid, it was _something_.

"Sure."

* * *

Guts and Casca found their seats in the middle of all the chaos. The outside stage was simple, a white sheet hung in the air while the wooden flooring jutted off the ground. Wooden chairs scattered about for the audience, all creaked and groaned as the crowd filled in. Centaurs, elves, adult witches and mages, Guts felt like an outsider as he saw the strange beings sit down in anticipation. Casca sat to his left, and her hand was wrapped around the metal monstrosity he called a left hand. Even though she had to have known that it was fake, her grip was tight. He saw her thumb roll over the metal digits of his artificial fist.

The sun slowly set, but it was steady pace. Where once it shined bright in the sky, the soft glow of the night came to replace it. Lanterns were put up and around, and bathed the stage in a mellow light. Guts had to swat a few elves off of his shoulders after they tried to use him as a spot to nap. Casca merely glared at him, as if she was upset that he forced the annoying bugs off of him. She would learn, in time.

"So what is this?" Guts asked as he watched the child mages get on stage. They were all small, and they bickered back and forth as they tried to get the performance started. Was it some kind of talent show? A play? It was odd to see children that only worried about a bad recital. Not being killed by raiders, eaten by demons, starved and raped by- _No_. He wasn't in Midland. Elfhelm was safe. They would be safe there. He didn't need to think about those things, not yet. Just for one night, he would enjoy himself.

"Apparently," Casca began before she placed her head against his armored shoulders, "the trainees have a project where they have to tell a story completely in magic. All visuals and no spoken words."

"Kind of a complex thing to throw on a kid," Guts grunted. Granted, he grew up killing people, so it was not like he was much to talk.

"It sounds exciting," Casca said, her eyes full of stars. Guts almost forgot that she wasn't used to magic yet. He was exposed to so much of the crap that it was practically mundane. But it would be the first time he saw it used for something so... _useless_. He saw it heal wounds, kill scores of creatures, shield them from ungodly horrors, and now it was used for a play? The irony almost made him laugh. "Oh, it's starting!"

A young boy, dressed with a mage's robe, and a witch's hat sat securely on his head. Despite his obvious nerves, he shook like a leaf in a storm, he cleared his throat as loud as he could to get the audience's attention. The crowd went quiet as they waited for the boy to begin.

"Th-Thank you, in-inhabitants of Elfhelm!" the boy began, almost shrieking his introduction. Despite the volume, it was clear the child had no idea how to make his words sound dramatic, and they came out as stilted and clunky, "we, the mage apprentices, would like to thank everyone for watching out- _our"-_ the boy went red in the face at his mistake-"special performance tonight!" He waved his hand back to the ensemble behind him, other young girls and boys that were just as nervous as him. "We would like to tell you all a story of redemption and revenge! Of how love can save your soul, even when you have fully become a beast!"

"Were they assigned this, or...?" Guts asked as he stiffened in his chair. Strangely deep themes for a bunch of children.

"Shh!" Casca shushed Guts, her finger pressed against her lips, "it's starting."

And thus the show began. An inferno blazed high into the sky, the mage children all pointed their staves into the air as they shaped the fire into different forms. There was a massive wolf, at least from what Guts could tell. It hobbled in place, whimpers slipped from its fiery lips. Even with the loud cracks and pops from the flames, the creature sounded exactly like a dog. It raised its head high in the air and howled, its front, left paw kept curled up to its body.

The wolf hobbled, and hobbled, and hobbled. On it went, until the fire changed once again. It showed a young woman that sat outside of her small village home. The woman sang a song to herself, one that tasted bittersweet to the ears. Her voice was rich like honey. It was addicting, and Guts never wanted her song to stop. He had to admit, the kids did put on a performance.

As the feminine flame sang, the wolf appeared before her. Lured by her wondrous voice, the beast collapsed into her lap. The woman took pity upon the injured wolf, and she pet the animal's head while she continued her intoxicating song. As the song ended, the wolf fell asleep in her arms, content to lay with her until the end of time.

Time went on for the wolf and the woman. She cared for its wounds, and the wolf kept her company. Seasons changed, days sped by, and years seemed like mere minutes for the two. The woman was shy, and her new companion was more than enough to keep her happy through out the years. She would feed him, bathe him, walk him, and treated him like any other dog. As though he was a mere puppy instead of the beast he was.

The wolf was happy. For such a tiny fragment of his life, of his painful existence that was filled with so much sorrow, he truly felt alive. He wanted to thank the woman. The kind, beautiful soul that let him sleep at her feet. The wolf struggled to find a gift for her. He wanted to hunt something delicious, to prepare a grand feast for his master, but she would be sad if he killed something cute. He wanted to sing her a song, like the way she did, but she was annoyed anytime he was loud.

He struggled, day in and day out, to think of a way to make her happy. To repay her generosity, her unbelievable kindness, with something that would be just as good as the chance she gave him. It was then that the perfect gift came to mind. She didn't need any material good. No gesture that would be forgotten in a day. She needed something life changing. Something that would bring her the same happiness and warmth he was given.

Conviction strong in his heart, and the undying love of his master pushing him forward, the wolf prayed to the Gods. He begged them for the perfect gift for his lady. To revoke his savage nature as a beast and let him live as a man. To walk on two feet like her, and give her the love a human man could give her. He promised any price, to pass any challenge he was given. No matter what he needed to sacrifice of himself, the weight would be like a feather compared to giving his beloved master joy.

The Gods, kind and fair in their judgment, understood the wolf's plight. His dream was selfless, and the creature lived a life of hardship before the woman saved him. They would grant his request, but on one condition. The wolf could no longer kill. To truly sever his soul from his old life, he could not give in to his primal instincts. Not a single drop of blood would be spilled. The wolf agreed happily, and was granted his wish.

The man returned to his lady. It was just as he hoped, both fell madly in love with the other. They married, and had many children. A happy family that did not worry about the dangers of the outside world. The tiny, insignificant village they called home was all they needed. His price was simple, and the reward was pure perfection. The man was sure that he could live the rest of his days happily and in peace.

Then the soldiers came. The scene was pure carnage. Loved ones cut down in the blink of an eye, their happy home torn down and burned to ashes. It was as though they were mere dust being wiped away without a second thought. The man's life was destroyed, valuables stolen and land stripped of any hope for a future. But the only thing the man cared for was his woman. The woman that he loved so dearly, the one that showed him a life that he could truly call his own. She was dead. Killed in the raid, along with their children.

Sorrow and rage were all that filled the man. His heart was worse than shattered. It froze solid, hatred so cold that his spirit itself was overtaken. The man hunted, and he killed the soldiers that took everything from him. The Gods, as punishment for breaking his vow, took back their gift, and it was not long before he transformed back into the murderous animal he once was. Day after day of killing went on. An endless stream of soldiers met his fangs, and the wolf shifted into a monstrous beast. His jaws stretched, and more teeth filled his mouth. His claws grew, razor sharp talons of death that demanded more blood. Before long, it didn't matter who the humans he killed were.

The beast simply wanted blood. Hatred burned inside of him for so long that he truly became a demon. A monster that killed in a vain attempt to cure the agony in his heart. Memories of his happiness became cruel reminders of what was taken from him. He refused to think about those days, to sink further into his monstrous nature to avoid the misery that humanity brought him.

As the killing continued, the beast found himself outmatched. The humans prepared for him. Every battle became harder than the last, and the beast withered with each injury he sustained. Before long, he became a hobbling, crippled dog. The same pathetic state he was in when he met his love so long ago. Still, he refused to end the war. He needed to make the humans feel the same undying sorrow that he felt. Even if it killed him, he would make them suffer.

Until, he heard a sweet, familiar sound. The beast was sure it simply went mad, but he was sure that he heard the same song his wife sang, so long ago. He followed the noise, desperate to murder the impostor that mocked him with good memories. However, when he finally found the singer, the sight before him was beyond anything he could imagine.

It was a small girl, still just a child. But she wasn't just a village girl, it was his daughter. The youngest one, the only survivor of the raid on their lives so many years prior. She was just a mere infant when the soldiers came. She did not recognize him in the slightest, and looked frightened of the creature in front of her. He was sure they all died. That he was left alone to bear the weight of their deaths. But his only living child sat before him. The beast could not help itself, and it collapsed in her lap. Though she was hesitant, her hand slow and shaky, she pet the head of her father; like how her mother did when the wolf met her.

For the first time in a very long time, the wolf felt peace once again. It was a small gesture by the girl, barely anything she put real thought into, but it meant the world to the wolf. His daughter's song lulled the wolf to sleep as the fires finally cleared from the sky.

Guts was... well... pretty speechless. It was certainly a story, at least he could say that much. Sniffles caught his attention, and he turned to see Casca wipe away tears from her eyes. Now she cried at plays? Guts never really saw such a... _soft_ side to Casca. She was a warrior, a deadly swordsman that could chop a man's head off in a single strike. The woman that sat next to him, her arms wrapped around his left, seemed like a different person entirely. Of course, it was not like he didn't change either.

"Please," Casca whispered, the sniffles gone but the tears still flowed unabated, "don't go. You don't need to go back."

Guts stiffened. He tightened his body, and became a statue. Every breath became shallow, and his heart raced in his chest. His fist clenched as he ground his teeth. How? How did she know?

"Who told you?" Guts asked, his voice low and cold. It had to have been Danaan. She told Casca about everything. About the armor, about the taint that flooded his veins, about how Guts wanted to finish what was started in that tornado. When Griffith took everything from him.

"So you really do want to run away again!?" Casca said, her voice strong and no longer hesitant. Any sign of the meekness she held earlier was gone, a scowl clear on her. She was so angry that smoke poured from her ears, her fist tight and ready to strike his chin. "How could you be so damned stupid!?"

"I need to go," Guts answered simply. His face did not move a muscle, even after Casca's balled up hand slammed hard against his nose. Blood dripped down, bit by bit, until the clean grass below them was stained red. Even after so long, her punch was still just as strong as the old days. Part of him wondered if she started training again. It would make sense, her muscles were visibly shrunken down compared to her old self. She looked more... womanly, he had to say.

"This is just like you," Casca spat and bolted up from her chair. Fury flooded her chest until she felt like her ribs were about to crack. "You get the _one_ chance at happiness, a chance _anyone_ would kill for, and you want to throw it all away! To just throw it away like a pebble! Why!? To go chasing after some impossible dream again!? Some idiotic crusade that'll just end up with you face down in some shallow grave!? _Why are you such an **idiot**_!?"

Her screams chased away any sound of the forest. Twigs stopped snapping, birds stopped chirping, the distant giggles of the children stopped. Guts looked around, and thankfully saw no eyes were on them. The crowd was dispersed, all hoped to mingle and celebrate at some party on the other side of the island, and now they were the stars of their own personal show. He didn't care. They wouldn't understand. It would be impossible to make them. What they saw... what they survived... it was something only they shared. Something that stained them, and changed them for the rest of their lives.

"You deserve to be happy," Guts muttered, only loud enough for her to hear. The rest didn't need to hear them airing their dirty laundry. He reached out, and grasped Casca's hand, before she yanked it away. He saw her body shake, like she was a leaf about to snap off of a tree. She all but seethed in rage. Even so, Guts rose to his feet, and rested his hands on her shoulders. "I need to finish this."

"No you don't," Casca hissed, and shook off Guts once again. Even with the anger in her heart, tears dripped down her cheeks. That strong front collapsed once again, as it always did around him. Just as quick as she pulled away from him, Casca wrapped around his armored chest. She punched his chest, any strength she once had melted away entirely as the pitiful smacks did not even register. "It's okay to just run away sometimes..."

"He needs to die," Guts growled, that dark temptation licked at his brain as he continued. The one that demanded more blood, to never let the killing end. He would give it what it wanted. He'd drown it in blood, if it meant they were all finally safe. "For the Hawks. For Judeau, Pippin, Corkus, Gaston, everybody. He doesn't get to walk away from what he did."

"They're _dead_ , Guts!" Casca shrieked, her sobs now blatant. Those gorgeous eyes of hers were red, and she sniffled as she was wracked with that same shattering guilt he felt. That guilt that came when they remembered their comrades. When they asked why they were alive and they were gone. The same guilt that felt like a horrible nightmare they could never awake from. "What does killing Griffith solve!? They'll still be dead, and you're just gonna follow right behind them! He has an _army_ , a **_kingdom_** , behind him! Revenge is some worthless excuse you want to use to run away again!"

"It's not revenge," Guts began, "it's something more than that. It took me a long time to figure this out. I chased revenge, for _years_. It took me to very bad places. Places so dark that I never thought I would see light again. So deep into the muck, and the shit, that I was sure that the stink would never wash off. But then," Guts looked around, to the paradise around them; the air so fresh that it was like a drink of water, "I let others in, they pulled me out of that muck. They... _saved_ me. And the idea of _him_ coming to take all that away again, and leave me alone to fall back into that pit they pulled me from..."

"And how do you think they would feel?" Casca asked as she pushed away from Guts. Her voice was unstable, like an old bridge that fell apart board by board. "That you would come so far just to run off and kill yourself for them? Did you even consider asking them to come with you? Or _me_?"

"You'll stay here," Guts ordered, his tone as stern as the look on his face. Casca's bubbling anger came right back, and she delivered another punch to his nose. He was sure it was broken, but he didn't care. She couldn't come with him. Bad things happened to her because of him. He needed to leave before some other horrible calamity barged its way in and hurt her.

"I'm not some delicate princess you got to _save_!" Casca barked, her teeth bared out like fangs as she shot venom at Guts. "If anyone has the right to kill Griffith, it's _me._ I was with everybody the longest, _I led them when everything fell apart_. You ran off to the mountains while _I_ had to keep everybody alive! They were my family! I was with them ever since I was a girl," Casca could not hide the anguish in her voice as it cracked like glass. She collapsed to her knees as the pent up sorrow was unleashed. "I saw them all die! I was drenched in their blood, Judeau died to save me! We left Pippin to be eaten! Those... _things_ touched me, and Griffith-!"

Casca screamed. That same horrid scream that she made when she saw Guts for the first time in years. After all the memories flooded back, and she remembered what was taken from her. Her friends. Her **family**. Her comrades, who would have gladly fought side by side with her in countless battles. Her dignity, when Griffith loomed over her with those red eyes. But the one thing that was taken from her that hurt the worst, the one thing that felt like her brain was rubbed with ground glass to think about, was her...

"Why did he take _him_ from me...?" Casca whimpered pathetically. She was on all fours, her hands and knees pressed into the grass as she cried. Guts had bile creep in his throat as he sank in her words. As he watched her hand glide over her abdomen, and Casca fall to the earth completely. She did remember. She remembered that night. That abominable night. The one night that shattered his spirit, and made him feel like a hollow husk. Any rage he once held, any bitter anger, was drowned in sorrow. Guts placed his hand on Casca's head, his touch was gentle and careful.

"That's why," Guts said, his tongue frozen to stone in his mouth. He was able to force it to make the words he needed, but he would be lying if he said it was easy. Tears dripped from his good eye, even after he forced them to stay hidden. There was no way he could let his sadness out, to grieve along with Casca for their child. That wound was still fresh, and it would never heal. If he broke down now, his torment would keep him from ever getting back up. So instead, he bottled it up, and used it as fuel for hatred. "He took something irreplaceable from us, tried to throw us into Hell. So I'll crawl out of it and pull him into the deepest, darkest pit I can find."

With those words, Guts walked away from Casca. She barely got herself back together, and still sobbed without a care for who was watching. Just before Guts walked completely out of sight, he stopped dead in his tracks, and turned his head back to Casca.

"You said 'him,'" Guts began, all emotion empty in his voice, "you're sure he would have been a boy?"

"It was too early to tell," Casca had tremors in her throat as she spoke. Every thought about their baby burned her, like she pressed hot steel to her flesh. "I was only a few months along."

"I would have been happy with a daughter," Guts said simply, thoughts of a better life in his mind. Of a cabin in the middle of the woods, free of the coldness of the world; of a little girl that happily picked flowers with her mother, and a happy Casca that never worried about their child's safety; of a quiet life that was never stolen. "Her name would've been Shisu."

"Why 'Shisu?'" Casca could not stop herself from asking. She was sure that she heard that name somewhere before, but the thought escaped her. It was a strange one, though.

"Shisu was my mother," Guts answered, before he finally vanished from sight. There were only a few words Casca could hear before he was gone completely. Just one simple sentence that announced his departure. Five small words, said so simply.

"You would have liked her."


End file.
